New Pictures

La Boheme. In a perfect spasm of Art and classic reverence, Metro-Goldwyn has taken the fiction of Henry Murger, chiefly famous for Puccini's opera written around it, and produced a "super-picture." Lillian Gish and John Gilbert are the players and the director is King Vidor. After failing in an attempt to purchase the cinema rights to the Puccini music (although it is said $150,000 was offered), a complete special score was obtained which approximated the classic melodies. Everything then was done to make the picture memorable. It turned out a trifle-tiresome. The story was at fault. For picture purposes the little consumptive girl and the shabby but sincere gayeties of the Paris Latin Quarter seemed insufficient. La Boheme is a much better picture than most, but it does not measure up to its great promises.

The Girl from Montmartre. Barbara La Marr's last picture is being shown almost before the mourners are back from her funeral (TIME, Feb. 25, MILESTONES). Besides being an example of the wretched taste of the movies in general, the picture, about the usual Paris dancer, is uninteresting.

Sea Horses. Jack Holt and Florence Vidor are fairly entertainingly occupied in a marine adventure in which a typhoon is prominently concerned. He is a sea captain and she the wife of an Englishman who once might have been described as a cad.

Oh, What a Nurse. Sidney Chaplin, who since the success of Charley's Aunt has become virtually a perpetual female impersonator, has another one of the type. It is a fairly amusing tale about a man who wrote an "Advice to the Lovelorn" column and had to put on skirts because his dear public was pleased to meet him.